


Comfort

by EwanMcGregorIsMyHomeboy12



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Non-Explicit Sex, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 21:18:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7070740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EwanMcGregorIsMyHomeboy12/pseuds/EwanMcGregorIsMyHomeboy12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Battle of Geonosis, Obi-wan is spending time away from the temple, trying to find some form of comfort at the bottom of a glass of whiskey. Things change when an old friend, one he hasn't seen in a while, looking for the same kind of release, finds him there...Mature content in chapter 2</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Again with the Siriwan. They're just great, I love them too much. I hope you all enjoy, I'm planning on having the other chapters up by the end of the week. Let me know what you think :)

He swallowed down his troubles, and they burned as hot as the whiskey that slid down his throat. He hadn't wanted to come here, he hated himself when he came here, but he needed the relief that would come from sitting on this barstool, swirling the amber contents of his glass around as he debated finishing it and asking for another.

It wasn't like he couldn't control himself. Even now, already one glass in, he could feel that he still had his full graces about him. If he finished this one, he wouldn't let himself drive, even though he knew he could more than do it. This wasn't an unusual experience for him, and as far as experience went, he had it to offer.

The bar wasn't crowded. It was the middle of the workweek, and as a result the bartender whose six arms were simultaneously pouring drinks from a barreled keg and washing still-dirty cups, was watching him quite carefully. He wasn't eh first Jedi who had been in here, he had seen others on his many trips, been accompanied by Reeft and Garen on more than one occasion, but with the start of the war, he suspected that he wasn't as expected as he had once been.

"Obi-Wan?" He heard a familiar voice behind him and spun around to see another of his oldest friends. "Care if I join you?"

Siri didn't wait for an answer, simply slid her legs over the seat next to his and examined him. She had been there, on Geonosis, he had seen her out of the corner of his eyes are she moved around the battlefield, slicing through droids like water with the same fluid grace she did all things. "Not at all," He said, even though it was far too late.

She motioned at the bartender, and to Obi-Wan's surprise, ordered the same drink he had. He took a moment, while she conversed and passed over credits, to take in her appearance. A small cut above her eye was held together with a strip of medical tape, she looked older than the last time he had seen her. Wiser, mature; but still, he could think only to himself, very beautiful.

"I didn't know you cared for Cestis whiskey, Siri." She winked at him as she sipped at her drink, mirroring the swirling motion he had made with his own glass before responding.

"There's probably a lot you don't know about me, Kenobi." He had to laugh. "It's been a while since I've seen you. Almost a year, if you don't count Geonosis, and force only knows why you would."

"I agree." He nodded, and sipped a little more at his own, deciding that this would probably be his last. "I'm glad you got to attend my execution though, I know how disappointed you would have been to miss it." She laughed that time, and he caught a spark of what their friendship had always been. What they had always been able to offer.

He had come here, come to the bar to escape the formality and low morale of the temple. Anakin was gone to Naboo, the council was busy planning for war; meditation offered no release as it had. There was much to do there, and yet, he had found himself almost on the outskirts of it, grappling with the damning feeling of failure after his and Anakin's fight with Dooku.

"You cut your hair." She said, and he looked surprisingly up at her, his dark thoughts consuming him for a moment. "It looks good."

He unconsciously ran a hand through it, and smiled to thank her. She was taking another sip, watching him over the rim of her glass. He caught something in her vision, something that he hadn't seen from another being in a long time. Or, at least, hadn't allowed himself to see for a long time.

"You got a new lightsaber." Her eyes cut from him, and he let out a sigh of quiet relief, his breath had quickened in only that instant.

"I decided purple wasn't really my color. It's far more suited for Master Windu." She touched the hilt lightly, it was almost entirely repurposed into a different fashion that resembled some of the ancient weaponry that Obi-Wan had seen in forgotten villages in the outer rim. His own new lightsaber was latched to his hip, and he realized that his looked much the same, the pieces looking more like misassembled pieces of a sluggard weapon. He thought it fitting, that their hilts be so similar. "Well, that, and the other crystal was beginning to cause problems. Lightsaber shorts during battle are not ideal." She grinned, and he hid his amusement behind his glass, where he tipped the last of the liquor down his throat, the final burn taking the edge off the morbidity that he had been feeling since their return.

She finished her own shortly thereafter, listening to a tale she had elicited from his regarding his trip to Kamino to see to the clone army, a battalion of which they both would be getting shortly. When it was done, she slid both of their glasses down the counter, where the bartender grumbled something in a language neither spoke and took both of them in separate hands to wipe with his dirty rags.

"Do you fancy going back with me?" She had already risen, he had never known her to second-guess an action.

"Of course, Siri." He gathered his robe where he had folded it on the seat next to him. "Lead the way." They traipsed through the lower levels of Coruscant, their conversations a mix of small quips and quiet stories, light banter and easy silences. Beneath it all hummed a current through the force that Obi-Wan was well aware of, and had come to recognize when he was near her for too long, when he thought about things they had promised to forget.

They hailed an air taxi, one that would take them back to the temple free of charge as the driver got one look at their lightsabers. It wasn't an intimidation factor, the Jedi were provided services freely on Coruscant, and Siri entered the taxi information in to the Senate register so that the driver could be paid. "When you're flying over it, it almost seems as if there is more to Coruscant than the city."

"I think you've been spending too much time on rural planets, Siri." He swept his arms out dramatically, imitating a Senator's dramatic form of speech. "Here in the city is where true life lies."

"I'd say that most of the Jedi are inclined to agree with you." She answered in response, and he watched as he eyes gazed over a late-night food market on one of the levels below, watching as tourists and inhabitants alike exchanged goods from across the Core Worlds. "I've only met a rare few comfortable with being outdoors for too long. Most prefer the comfort of cities."

Obi-Wan would generally count himself one of those Jedi, but he had learned long ago that the true glory of the force, beyond what could be seen in beings that crowded the tight spaces of places such as Coruscant and Mygeeto, could be seen in the pastoral images of barely inhabited places. Together, they had gone on several exercises that took them over mountains, through rivers, and along plains that had imparted on Obi-Wan some of the most beautiful scenes he had ever paid witness to. He understand the subtle grace of civilization, but he understood what she meant about the freedom and virtue that a lack of it could provide.

As the driver slid along more levels, their conversation turned to that of personal experiences where he could hear the laughter in her tone as they recounted many of their shared, sometimes strained memories as Padawans, the shared tales of their masters. By the time they returned to the temple, he was almost sad that their conversation would end soon, that they would go their separate ways again as they had always been forced to in the past.

They walked along the near empty halls of the temple, and the hurt he had left to quell rose back up within him. It was empty for two reasons, it was gradually becoming late and many were retiring to sleep or meditation for the night hours. Also, many Jedi had been slain in the first days of war, nearly fifty on Geonosis alone, and the halls of the temple would never quite feel the same without the presence of those force souls within them.

They approached her quarters first, since Ferus had left the Order, she had moved back into single quarters, opting not to take another Padawan for the time being. He understood her decision, but it meant that rarely was she petitioned to go with him and Anakin, the council usually preferring to match teams with each other. He had not been able to see her as he once had, enjoy the easy feeling that settled between them now.

She opened her door, and he stepped back, opening his mouth to say his good-byes, wishing in the back of his mind, that he did not have to. That she would be there to comfort him, to help with the pain of all that had been lost over these past few days.

As if sensing this, she spoke calmly to him. "Come in, Obi-Wan. I could use your company for a while, at least." It was laced with amusement, but again he saw that look, a subtle hint of her feelings in her gaze, and his heart thrummed in his chest.

"Of course." And, perhaps following his heart, his own desires more than he ever had, he stepped into the room behind her, feeling the soft shutting of the door.


	2. Chapter 2

He took off his shoes by the door, not wanting to track whatever might be on the bottom of them through her apartment. Little had changed since he had first know her. It was clean, but also clearly disorganized. He had to smile, thinking of his own apartment, which, now that Anakin had been gone for several days, was virtually spotless. "You can sit on the couch, I'll make us some tea." He nodded, and went into the small living space, sitting on one side of the couch.

Her apartment reminded her much of Anakin's old room, filled with personal artifacts: pieces of jewelry and small plants from places she had visited, a haphazardly hung sign advertising the Galactic Games they had all attended in years past as a security force. Soon she returned, and took in his amused ruminations with easy grace, sitting opposite him on the couch. She placed in his hands a mug of tea, steam swirling off of it, blowing into his face a warm minty smell. Of course, she would remember his favorite. He sipped quietly, and listened to her stories on the other end of the couch, simply enjoying her company.

"You seem distracted, Obi-Wan." Her tone wasn't accusatory, only matter-of-fact. She was correct of course, but for once in a long time, it was not a bad distraction. Not the angry aloofness of his Padawan, not the incriminating horror of the approaching war, not the overly bright lights of the medical ward as he got more and more accumulating wounds tended. He was thoroughly distracted by her, actually. Everything they had said when they were younger, even though they had promised to never bring it back up again. Being so close to her again. Finally being able to be around her, be away from everything. And he was trying desperately not to show it.

"I am." There was no point in lying to her, but he swallowed down more tea, not offering an explanation. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be."

"It's alright. You're still good company." She winked at him, and he could feel the involuntary smile tug at his lips. He saw that same look in her eyes again, and a slight shiver ran through him. He shouldn't be having thoughts like this, she shouldn't be having thoughts like this. He could feel her force signature close to his, closer than they were on the couch, and it seemed to be curling around his, prodding him forward with its warmth. This was starting to be dangerous. Far more dangerous than a war. He did the only logical thing, and attempted to drown those thoughts in mint tea.

Unfortunately, he quickly came to the bottom of his cup. "Are you done?" She said, and he nodded, swallowing the last of it, before she stood and took both of them in her hands. He watched her disappear into the kitchen and let out a long breath as soon as she was out of earshot. He needed to calm down, to control his wild thoughts before he said something, suggested something that could damage their relationship. She was so important to him, more than this would be worth. Or at least, that's what he told himself. He wondered if she was having the same thoughts as he heard washing out the mugs in the kitchen.

He decided when she returned, he would leave. He never go the chance. "Obi-Wan?" She was standing in the doorway, giving him a hard look. "I want to try something. I need your help."

"Of course, Siri, anythi-" And in a deft motion, she slid into his lap, wrapping her arms around him, and interrupting his last words with a soft kiss. Surprise hit him like a brick, followed by overwhelming desire to kiss her back. His lips obeyed that urge, pushing past any reluctance that his brain forged, for once letting his body take over when he was so near her.

She pulled back, letting him catch his breath, seeming to need to find her own. "Sorry…" She said, and immediately, though she had been almost entirely wrapped in his arms, surrounded by the warmth he seemed to be offering her, she was standing, almost two feet away from him in front of the couch. Before he could fully understand what was happening, he was standing in front of her, facing her fully. "I didn't mean to be so forward."

He hesitated, before reaching out a hand to touch her shoulder gently. "To be perfectly honest, Siri, I wasn't exactly intent on stopping you." She didn't shrug off his touch, in fact, he could feel the heat that seemed to transcend his fingertips and cut into his blood. He wanted to be closer to her, to taste her lips again, where a small piece of her still seemed to cling to him.

"We made a promise, Obi-Wan." And she turned, so subtle he might have missed it if the fabric of her darker tunic hadn't brushed against his own. "Don' tell me you've forgotten."

"No, of course not." And in his mind, he could feel the doubt forming, warring with the desire he felt there, with the peace he found in her body, in her force signature that was now almost fully entwined with his own. "Just as I haven't forgotten the reason behind it in the first place."

And there it was, dangling in the space between them. Whatever this night brought, it would be a testament to the relationship between them. He had been strong enough to withstand Dooku's interrogation, to fight the Sith himself. He did not think he was strong enough to deny this, not if she was willing to share it with him.

"We are forbidden from attachments, Obi-Wan." Her calm eyes met his, and he could see a reflection of the war in his own. "We were not strong enough to deny that attachment then. Are we now?" It was a question deserving of his full consideration. One that he longed to say yes to, but had to be sure. He regarded his own state, how he had been over the last several days, how he had changed since their confession so long ago.

"The choice lies with you, Siri." He passed it on to her, wondering if she would take that as a sign of cowardice. But, to him, his answer was clear. He had chosen the Order long ago, he had so recently rebutted Anakin for his growing affection to Senator Amidala. He would not be a hypocrite. She shrugged her shoulder, rolling his hand off slowly, but she made no other moves, regarding him as she always had, with the hard stare of a woman entirely confident in herself, sizing up an opponent.

She outstretched a hand between them, and in a motion that surprised him, undid the buckle of his utility belt, tossing it onto the couch behind them. "I think," she said, gripping the front of his tunic, "We can handle it." She gave him a small wink. Her hands went under the first layer of cloth and undid the strings that held the fabric together. "I think we're more than strong enough for this." Instead of pulling the panels completely apart, they hung loose on his shoulders as she took his hand and moved them towards her bedroom.

"Don't want someone walking in on that by accident." She said, and he blushed.

"Yes," He responded, trying to keep the mood light as he knew they both realized what a step this would be. "The shock of it might kill someone like Master Yoda."

"Surprisingly, Obi-Wan," She pushed the tunic off his shoulders as the door shut behind them, letting the beige fabric fall to the floor, tugging then at the under tunic that was much darker and still covered his chest. "I choose not to think about 800 year old green Dagobahians when I'm in the bedroom." He laughed at her, moving his arms to pull the tunic over his head, instantly gratified when her hands found their way to his bare chest.

"I think I might understand why that is." He wrapped an arm around her waist, feel her fluttering touches, letting himself dissolve into them. He leaned in for another kiss, and it was easily granted. This one though, he now felt free to pressing into it the fire that his body was feeling, the passion he had always kept at bay. He had before, in his fleeting sexual encounters, been involved only with woman he knew he would never see again. Women who mildly intrigued him on missions, but who expected no commitment from him, and realized he had none to offer. Women who, after he had been with them, left him physically satisfied, but in the same empty emotional state.

With her, even with this simple kiss that she accentuated by tracing the outskirts of his lips with her tongue, asking for entry, all of those things he could never have threated to spill over. With every touch of her hands, he felt real desire, both physical and temporal. Not the wishes of someone wishing to bed a Jedi, but the strength of one who desired him as an equal. She was strong and as her tongue passed over his in a motion that made him shutter, she was all encompassing.

Their kissing continued, but his hands found their way between them to undo her belt as his had been, undoing the latches on the tunic she wore. Before the fabric could come undone in his hands, however, she pressed him back, breaking apart their lips, and putting pressure on his chest until he fell back onto the bed, and she could climb onto him , pressing her hips down into and onto his.

"This isn't how I pictured spending the evening." He said, "I've got to say, Siri, being under you is quite intriguing. I may have to do it more often." She didn't blush, she never blushed, but she did give him a wicked grin, sliding her nails gently over his skin, not even strong enough to leave faint lines, and he couldn't the small groan that came from his throat.

"I think that greatly depends on how this one goes." He knew she was kidding, but when she pulled her tunic up over her head, tossing it haphazardly behind her, exposing and expanse of soft skin, only partially held back by a black bra, he couldn't think of any sort of reply. She leaned down, pressing her breasts into the hard planes of his chest as their lips molded hungrily together again and again.

He spread broad, calloused hands over his back, feeling her unconsciously grinding her pelvis into his. She swallowed his groans into her mouth, and he wondered how many times he had pictured this. One hand went to the clasp that held her bra together, and he felt it come loose in his hands. That same hand braced against her back and he flipped them on the bed, now hovering over her their faces close.

He burned with the urge to say he loved her, but he could not do that to himself, nor let himself do it to her. "Can I?" He pulled at one shoulder of her loose bra, but rather than answer, she pulled it off herself, exposing herself to his sight. He didn't think he had ever seen anyone so beautiful, and he pressed another soft kiss to her lips, slipping his hand off of her hip to brush the backs of his fingers against her bare breast.

He cupped them, slid his thumb over her nipples until they hardened and she moaned softly. He could feel his body reacting to the sight and sound of her, and knew she could feel his arousal against her thigh. His body cried out to take it further, so he did, pressing a soft kiss to the pale skin between her breasts before she closed his lips over one of them. Her fingers twisted in his hair, and he heard his name come from between her lips as his tongue flicked over the peaks he had made. He smiled against her skin, repeating the ministration to the other, his body devouring every moan and gasp that she made against his skin. Her hands left his hair, and he pulled back, only to discover that they were swiftly undoing the strings of his pants, rolling the edges off of his hips, pushing them backwards.

He kicked them off, watching her as she set a hand slightly above his navel, twirling fingers in the short and soft ginger hairs there. He wondered if maybe she had changed her mind, if she wanted to stop. But then, almost instantly, her hand moved to cup the bulge at the front of his shorts.

He groaned, and unconsciously bucked his hips into her hand. No one had ever been able to make him feel this way, to crave so much what she was offering. He wondered, looking down at her as was slightly flushed, if she felt the same. He pressed his face against her bare shoulder, as she pulled down his last layer of clothing.

He was a modest man, he didn't enjoy being naked, especially in front of other people. At least, not usually. He also didn't know what she thought of him, and he wanted to look at her eyes, but found he didn't have the courage, will, or strength to do it. Nothing happened for a moment, and he pressed a kiss to her shoulder, getting ready to move back and pull her into another kiss when he felt her hand wrap around him.

"Siri…" He could hear his breath leave him in a gasp, her hand moving slowly.

Her other hand moved a slow circle on his back, playing with his now short hair. He groaned freely as he thumb pressed against and then passed over his tip. "I don't see why you're so modest, Obi-Wan." He felt her shift under him and press a kiss to his ear. "You have nothing to be ashamed of." He wasn't one to blush, but that comment drew it out of him.

He reached down hand, taking hold of her wrist, stilling the motions that were threatening to overwhelm him with pleasure. "Nor do you." He unzipped the pants she was wearing, watching as more and more of her skin was exposed to him as they slid slowly down her thighs and calves. He hardly had the patience to slide his hand gently back up her leg, brushing against the nerves at the back of her knees, tracing light paths us her thighs as he repeated the motion to her panties, the same color as her bra.

Now they were equal again, completely exposed to each other for the first time. He took his eyes from her body, and moved them back to hers. They were dark, her pupils dilated as his were, and from where he hand rested gently on her thighs, he could feel the heat radiating off of her. How long had they wanted this? How long had they waited to be able to share this together?

"Kiss me." He said, and she obliged him, their lips a torrent of pressing kisses and their hands now grasping touches. The time for most talking was over, there was only the two of them now, their bodies, their hearts, their minds. His fingers slid between her legs, touching her nerves, feeling the slickness that send another shot of blood to his now throbbing arousal. He broke their kiss, but before he could speak, she took his face in her hands and held him close. "Make love to me."

His Jedi training cringed at the word love, but his body moved to oblige her, his mind completely overrun with the thought of her. He placed himself between her thighs, and moved his hand back to guide himself in, watching her entire body arch as he pressed in deeper. He couldn't help but start moving, rocking them back and forth slowly, each moan he made, mingling with a twin sound from her. They moved together as one, and he sucked a small spot on her neck, quickening his pace.

He had never felt anything this incredible, nothing so amazing. It was almost blinding, more than overwhelming. Each time her hips moved to meet his, he could feel his release knotting tighter. He wanted to make sure she was getting as much out of it. "Are you alright?" He hadn't realized he was panting until the harsh sounds of his breath came to his own ears. In response, she moaned as he brushed against her exposed nerves with his pelvis, and latched a leg over his hip, where he could slide even deeper into her body.

He let out a loud groan, and started to move faster again, feeling the bed start to squeak under their weight. They moved together, one single unit of wrapped limbs, sweat, passion, and the force. It was surrounding them now, he could feel it almost a tangible force as it wrapped around the pair of them, pulling them even closer. He knew he loved her, it had been a feeling that until now had remained unconsummated in his mind, aching for the bond they were sharing now.

"Obi-Wan." She was whispering against his ear, and he sucked hard at the spot on her neck, not trusting his words when every noise coming out of him seemed to be a groan, moan, or some bastardization of her name as he tried to think. "Worth the wait, then?" He let out a harsh laugh against the curve of her shoulder, reminded again of all that their relationship had always offered him, the safety, security, comfort, laughter, and now this seemingly incurable heat as they separated and came together again at an almost blinding pace.

He moved his hand back from the pair of them, using only his other one to hold his upper body off of her, and slid it between them. He looked down between them, and was almost pulled to a viscerally close edge at the view of himself disappearing into her body again and again and again. She was tense against him, close to release. He wanted it for her, needed it for her first. He let out a long breath, feeling it move of her sweat-slicked skin as his fingers passed over her breasts and navel, brushing hurried, but painfully slow circles.

One simple motion, a twist of his fingers against her exposed nerves, had her coming undone against him. "Force.." It was a half-moan, half-howl that had part of his roaring with triumphant lust that he could make her feel this way. Make her want his touch as much as he wanted hers. A touch that was now clamping tightly around him, keeping him deep inside of her. He kept his fingers moving in gentle circles, feeling her ride out her high, shuddering against him.

He was close, so close; his entire body, his brain, his skin, burned with need. She seemed to know it, and in an instant, he could feel her legs, wrap fully around his waist as thrust back into her body, the timing perfect to finally bury him fully inside of her.

That final gesture, her body pulling him so close, the heat, the slick feel of her; was his undoing. In a burst of pure, unadulterated ecstasy, her name left his lips, and it took every ounce of strength in his body to hold himself up and not let the weakness he could feel in his legs take over his actions and collapse into oblivion.

He rode it down slowly, this motion having been far more satisfying and far more enthralling than anything he had experiences. He could almost believe, buried inside her like this, that there was no war, that his apprentice wasn't grappling with insurmountable feelings for a Jedi, that there was only her, as there could have been if they had made that decision long ago. He kept those thoughts at bay, sliding a hand over her calf to release the vice grip on his thighs that she still held him in, collapsing next to her on the bed, letting out hard breaths next to her, relieved to see her in the same state.

"More than worth the wait." He panted out, and pulled her next to him, any intention of leaving having disappeared with his resolve long ago, and would be denied by the pull to her he now felt through the force.


	3. Chapter 3

"Where are you going?" She muttered against his shoulder, moving her arm back off his chest as she felt him shift.

"Not far." He pulled his pillows behind him and sat up, propped up against them, still letting out slightly sped breaths. "You can join me up here, if you'd like." He grinned down at her, wrapping her arm around her, his hand on her far hip, holding her body flush against him.

She sighed, pressing into him, rubbing small circles into his skin. "I can't believe how long it's been since I've seen you, Obi-Wan." She let out a long breath. "I wish we didn't have to be apart so long."

"Well, I think you've seen more of me than you ever have, Siri." He couldn't keep the tease from coming out of his mouth, or the temptation to kiss her again from his mind. She obliged him, and behind it, he could feel a faint suggestion that they might continue this behavior when both had recovered. He matched that with his own desire, to finally be with her this way, to be able to make love to her was a small dream he had never thought would come to fruition. But, still, he was unsure about what their actions held for them now.

She broke their kiss, moments before he decided to, and simply looked at him. "I can tell when you're worried Obi-Wan." Gentle fingers caressed the side of his face where his brow was instinctually furrowed. He turned his head and pressed a soft kiss to her fingers. "You don't kiss the same when you're worried. It's amazing though, that I can figure that out."

"Why is that?" He asked, teasing her again. "You discount your own ingenuity."

"It's not that," she said, grinning and rolling her eyes. "But seeing as how I've only kissed you maybe a dozen times, all in the last hour, you'd think I'd need a bit more practice."

He laughed. It felt good to laugh, to really be able to, here with her. He had so much to be distressed about. Pain, suffering, loss, his fractured relationship with Anakin. This was a nice change. But, still, in his gut, he could feel the twinge of guilt. He was starting to think that he and Siri had convinced themselves that they could handle this, their feelings that had been long pushed away. And perhaps she was right.

But he had felt their connection. Greater even, than the incredible closeness of their bodies, it had entwined the two of them almost completely together, pulsing around them as one signature. It was dangerous, for a Jedi, to have that kind of connection. Wonderful. Exhilarating. Thrilling. But dangerous.

"You are right though, Siri. I am worried."

"That we won't be able to move past this?" Her head went back to rest on his shoulder, and she drew the blanket up around the pair of them, covering their bodies from the slight circulation of cold air that came around her apartment. He didn't have to answer anything to confirm her words, and she let out a breath against his exposed skin that had a slight shiver running down his back, a slight shock running to certain parts of his body.

"We're not the Padawans we were when we made our promise, Obi-Wan." Her hand stilled, splayed on his chest, and he attempted to quell his natural reactions to her touch. "The force has not stopped us. Who's to say we are wrong?"

"Siri…"

"No, Obi-Wan. For once, just listen to me." And he had to laugh again, which he now noticed was doing wonders for the way they were pressed together. "I know we have in us the strength to stop. To never do this. To never bring it up again, and to be the Jedi we always have been. That must be enough to show that this is okay. What we're doing is acceptable. As long as we don't let it consume us, we don't make attachments; we can have this part of our relationship."

"I worry, Siri." He pulled her closer in an embrace, resting his chin on the top of her head.

"I understand." She pulled her hand up to place it gently on the side of his jaw, moving her head back so they could lock eyes. "There was a time when we were not strong enough. Things have changed. We have changed."

She leaned towards him, and he couldn't, and wouldn't deny her as they kissed again. And again and again. He was loathe to admit she had won an argument between them, but for the first time in his life, he also understood how little he cared. How much he wanted this. Wanted her.

He moved on instinct, bearing her down into the bed, their bodies pressed against each other fully again. "I think then, a questions remains." He whispered against her skin, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses against the pulse points of her throat.

"Really?" She gasped against him, threading her fingers through his now short hair.

"We can do this," He said. "The force has allowed us." He sucked gently at a certain point on her neck, eliciting a soft moan. "I think the only question that remains is how much can we do this until morning?"

She laughed that time, tugging back at his hair until he looked at her full gaze. "I think that greatly depends on that legendary Jedi control, Master Kenobi." And pulled him back into another kiss. Back into oblivion, fall away from the presses of raging war.


End file.
